


Sweet Childe of Mine

by rhodrymavelyne



Category: Fright Night (1985), Fright Night (2011), True Blood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-16 16:05:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16498712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhodrymavelyne/pseuds/rhodrymavelyne
Summary: Jerry Dandridge recalls how another Jerry Dandridge once hunted, how it was as much a seduction as a hunt. Only the former Childe of Luis's can never forget the terror his maker kindled in him...or how much he enjoys kindling that terror in others.





	Sweet Childe of Mine

**Author's Note:**

> This is an assumption that there are two Jerrys...the one staked in 1985 and the one in 2011. The latter took the former's name in his memory, for he always admired the first Jerry. He's a very different vampire, though, thanks to his maker. That maker was Luis, the vampire Inquisitor whom appeared in the fourth season of True Blood. This takes place in the same world as my other Fright Night fanfics. 
> 
>  
> 
> I don't own any of the Fright Nights or True Blood, although sometimes they own me, much to my own original characters's chagrin.

Hunger, rage, oh the urge to terrorize sizzled through his empty veins at the thought of his maker. 

“Are you frightened, carito?” Luis’s eyes gleamed in the darkness of his memories, the fleeting images of a terrified mortality he didn’t care to recall. “Fear is true power.” 

The Childe breathed in the scent of fear, ready to rampage in spite of whom might be watching.

“Childe.”

Jerry stood before him, dressed in nines in a coat, scarf, looking more dapper than any man had a right to be. 

The elder vampire laid both of his slender hands against the younger’s cheeks, fixing him with huge, soulful dark eyes. 

Only vampires didn’t have souls. Souls were a contrivance of the church, according to Luis. To be used to manipulate the mortal herd and justify control of them. 

Why did evidence to the contrary gleam within Jerry’s dark orbs. Ah, it was so easy to get lost within them. 

“Fear isn’t the only flavor out there.” Jerry nodded, offering the gentlest of encouragement. “Come. Let me show what else there is.”

He moved down the street, to catch the eye of a young woman, exposing neck and breast to the evening.

She smiled, unable to look away. She started walking toward Jerry’s, not even seeming to notice the fascinated Childe. 

The younger vampire watched as the older took the mortal into his arms. They might have been a pair of lovers on the street, while Jerry sank his fangs into her neck. 

This was how Jerry Dandrige hunted, the Childe mused. He preferred to seduce his victims, to charm them into baring their willing flesh to his teeth. 

Such an elegant, civilized way to hunt. So very Jerry. 

The Childe stopped to rub his eyes, to still the rage within him. 

He was Jerry Dandridge now. Perhaps he ought to try to show a little more of that charm associated with that name. 

He could never let go of his taste for terror. For the way his victims’s eyes widened in sheer fear before he took them. 

The Childe had his maker to blame for that.

**Author's Note:**

> "Carito", the phrase Luis uses for the Childe is Italian. Luis is Spanish, not Italian, but he may well have found the Childe in Florence, Italy. It was one of the historical places to pick up boys, according those covert seekers of such pleasures during the Renaissance.


End file.
